Stockholm Syndrome
by kualify
Summary: No matter how badly or how often he hurt her, Harley knew he loved her. Her Puddin' just had a funny way of showing it. A series of interconnected oneshots exploring the passionate, cruel, and abusive relationship between Gotham City's resident psychopaths.
1. Chapter 1

Their hideout was nothing special. Never the less, Harley would always do her best to spruce the place up. The two of them would often have to move to different places all over Gotham. Currently, her Puddin' had set up shop in an abandoned warehouse in the Falcone shipping yard. After all, there were only so many abandoned candy factories and joke shops in Gotham City, and Harley was sure they had used them all.

Harley wondered where Mistah J could go when the Bat-freak inevitably found this place. She shook her head and continued to spray paint smiley faces on the walls. Joker always told her that she shouldn't think too much. It wasn't her place, and her Puddin' was always right. Harley sighed and thought of the life they could have when he finally kills Batman. They would finally get married, burn Gotham to the ground on their honeymoon, and then have a dozen kids, and then they would grow old together. Harley lazily sprayed a few hearts on the wall with 'Joker and Harley 4 eva' inside each.

Harley smiled and stepped back to view her handiwork. Deciding that it was perfect, she skipped over to their bed and placed a few dead flowers around the bed frame.

She glanced over to Joker, who was on the other side of the room and hunched over a chemistry set concocting a new batch of laughing gas. He was facing away from her, engrossed in his work. Harley felt her heart flutter as she looked over Joker's purple-pinstripe clad body, her eyes stopping briefly at the clown's narrow backside. Harley knew for a fact that although he had a tall and slender build, every ounce of him was lean muscle. Harley felt herself getting hot thinking about his pale body that was almost completely calloused and covered with scar tissue.

Harley grinned deviously as an idea popped in her head. Silently, she slipped out of her costume, revealing the lacy black and red lingerie she had on underneath. She gave herself a quick once over and smirked. The bra and thong she had on certainly didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Hey Puddin'."

To anyone else, the lust that dripped from Harley's voice would have been obvious. If it had been anyone else, they would have pounced on her and they would have fucked like there was no tomorrow. To the Joker though, it was only a distraction. The Clown Prince of Crime groaned in annoyance.

"What is it, Harley? Can't you see I'm working? How many times do I need to tell you not to bother me when I'm working?"

Joker had not even bothered to turn around.

Harley crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. She was going to need to pull out the big guns. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She sauntered over to Joker, rhythmically swaying her hips as she walked. She turned and leaned over his workbench, giving the clown a full view of her chest. Joker laughed, not giving Harley a second glance.

"C'mon, Mistah J," she begged, "don't you wanna ride on your Harley?"

Joker giggled and placed the test tube he was holding back down on his desk. He turned and flashed Harley an impossibly wide smile, and Harley's heart swelled. For a moment, she thought they were finally going to get it on.

"Well Harley," the clown began, "Today I'm feeling a little bit generous, so I'll give you one last warning. Get away from me, or I might just test my brand new toxin on you."

Joker pushed Harley out of his way, and he chuckled as she fell in a heap on the floor. Harley stood up and dusted herself off. She was never one to give up easily. She had one last card up her sleeve. She considered her butt to be her greatest asset, and it was time to put her ass to work. She slipped off her thong and turned so her back was facing Joker.

"Hey Puddin', did you drop something around here?"

Harley bent at the waist and pretended to look around the floor. She gave Joker a full view of her butt and her womanhood, and did little shake for good measure. She spread her legs a bit and ran her hand up her thigh, while pretending to be oblivious to what she was doing.

Joker began to laugh maniacally. He stopped what he was doing and looked up to Harley. Joker continued to laugh as he purposefully walked over to Harley. He ran his hands over Harley's rear, and Harley shuddered at the sudden contact. Joker licked his lips and continued to giggle. He pushed himself on her, and Harley moaned as she felt him against her. Joker bent down further, and she felt his hot breath against her ear.

"Harley," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I warned you."

Harley felt her legs get swept from under her, and she fell onto the cold concrete floor. Joker grabbed the back of her head and yanked it upwards, and slammed her face back down to the floor. Joker laughed as he picked up her head up slammed it again, and again, and again. Joker stood up and walked in circles around Harley's body. Harley weakly tried to push herself up, the blood flowing freely from her broken nose. Joker stomped on Harley's back, forcing her down to the floor.

"Every day I have to remind you of your place with me," Joker halted his speech when a fit of giggles overcame him. He sighed and kicked Harley's ribcage. "How many times do I have to remind you before you understand?"

Joker emphasized his point with several more rib-breaking kicks. He grabbed Harley's shoulders and turned her over. He dropped to one knee and wrapped his long fingers around her throat. He leaned in close to Harley's face.

"Do you want to know something funny? No matter how much I hurt you, beat you, rape you, leaving you bleeding in an ally or rotting in a cell," Joker paused to lick the blood from Harley's face, "you keep coming back for more. Do you know why?"

Harley knew it was wrong. She knew the way he treated her was horrible. But why does the pain, both emotional and physical, feel so damn good? Why did she like it when he hurt her? Why did she enjoy getting brutalized and tortured every day?

She stared into his bloodshot green eyes, and her breath got caught in her throat.

"Why?"

"Because I own you. Ever since you sauntered into Arkham with your red shoes and the degree you earned on your back, you have been mine."

Joker took her by the neck and hoisted her up on her feet.

"Now run along," he said, "Your Uncle J has got some work to do, and I'm sure The Bat isn't going to kill himself." Joker pushed Harley to the ground and turned back to his workbench, giggling at the thought of Batman offing himself.

Harley stood up and brushed herself off, desperately trying to hold back tears. She cried in front of Joker only once before, and the resulting beating made this one look like nothing.

She weakly limped away, back to the bed. She let her tears fall freely when she realized something.

He was right.


	2. Chapter 2

She did it. She finally did it. After years of the emotional and physical torture she received at the hands of the Joker, Harley Quinn finally worked up the courage to leave him. She told herself it was for good this time.

Poison Ivy had taken her in when she showed up on her doorstep. Harley was starting to lose track of how many times she found herself crying and throwing herself into Ivy's waiting arms. Not that Ivy minded, of course. Contrary to popular belief, Harley was not as stupid as she let on. She was well aware of Ivy's feelings for her, and if Harley ever needed a roof over head, Ivy was a safe bet.

She showed up at Ivy's hideout a week ago. It was raining fairly hard, forcing her face paint to run down swollen cheeks and busted lip. She had spent most the evening beforehand being subjected to the Joker's new favorite form of torture: a crowbar.

Joker came back from his infamous run-in with Jason Todd on cloud nine. He giggled for days afterwards. To Joker, Jason Todd was nothing more than a way to royally piss off the Bat-freak, and from what he heard from his street gang, it seemed like he succeeded. In addition to a darker costume, the whole demeanor of the Batman changed. He was hitting harder, breaking more bones. Joker's gang was getting the most of the vigilante's brute force, but the rest of Gotham City's rouges noticed the change was well.

Joker was so overjoyed that he could get such an obvious rise out of the Bat. If he knew that all it took to raise the Caped Crusader's ire was the life of his sidekick, he would have butchered the Boy Blunder long ago. Joker was upset at himself that he hadn't thought of it sooner.

The Clown Prince of Crime was sitting in his newest hideout and debating on taking a stroll over to Blüdhaven and slaughtering the other one when Harley skipped into their hideout, with a large burlap sack filled to the brim with valuable jewels slung over her back. She was humming, and much to Joker's chagrin, loudly. Harley dropped the bag on the floor, and the resulting thud caused Joker to seethe in blatant irritation. Harley, of course, had been blind to Joker's anger.

"Hey Puddin'," she had exclaimed, "look at what I swiped from that jewelry store down the street! Did good didn't I? I ran into that dumb slut Catwoman, too. Told her to fuck off. I told her I said: 'Don't you got a Bat to fuck or something?' Ain't that funny Mistah J? That's funny ain't it?"

She continued to babble on in a desperate attempt to gain Joker's approval. He thought that of all of Harley's attempts to please him, this one had to be one of the most unimaginative. She kept rambling, and Joker felt every vein in his head explode. The clown stood up suddenly and turned towards her, effectively shutting her up.

"Harley, come here."

Harley ran up to Joker like a obedient puppy. Joker patted her head.

"I did good didn't I Puddin'?"

"Yes you did, you little minx. You did a fantastic job."

Harley thought her heart was going to explode. All of her hopes, all of her dreams, were finally coming true. Harley felt herself smile, feeling genuine happiness for the first time in a long time.

Joker turned away from Harley. He calmly walked over to a duffle bag that lay in the corner of the room. He bent down and unzipped it. He pulled out a crowbar that was stained with dry blood, and Harley wasn't feeling so happy anymore. She searched her memory for a reason, anything she might have did wrong, then it hit her. She went out without his permission.

"You did a fantastic job Harley," he continued, "at making me look stupid."

Joker raised the crowbar over his head. Before Harley could do anything to defend herself, cold steel collided with Harley's face. She fell, blood pooling around her head.

The rest of the evening passed by in a haze of senseless violence and laughter. When Joker finished, he walked out of the room without a single word. Harley waited a few moments after the door slammed shut before she shakily stood up. Her face had received the most of Joker's misplaced anger. She limped and stumbled over to the closest mirror.

Harley breathed in as deeply as she could and looked at her reflection. Her cheeks were swollen, and her bruises had taken a sickly green color, and the massive cut on her forehead would not stop bleeding, forcing her to keep her right eye shut. She figured that she got of easy, considered the last person he did this to died. She berated herself for not knowing better. Joker was the one who made the plans, not her.

The nagging thought forced itself back into her mind. She knew it well, as she had been thinking about it pretty often lately. She deserved better. She had been his doctor, for crying out loud.

Now what was she to him? A punching bag? A human shield. She had loved him once, or at least, she thought she did. She was desperate for his recognition. But why did she crave his acknowledgement? She had killed people, stolen things, and for what? Why did she fixate on a homicidal maniac who could never care about her?

Harley stood up straight, a new determination burning inside her. She turned and walked out the door without a second thought.

Harley sneezed and continued to bang on the door. The rain was unrelenting, and that coupled with it being mid-November, a cold was sure to set in.

"C'mon Red," Harley pleaded, "open up! It's freezing out here. I know your in there!"

Harley continued to bang on the door. She wanted to get inside only partly because of the rain. She needed someone, anyone, who will listen. Ivy was her best friend, and Harley could think of no one better than her.

Poison Ivy opened the door, and wasn't surprised by what she saw. She did did nothing to mask the anger she felt at the man responsible for Harley's battered presence.

"What did he do this time?"

Harley let the blood and tears speak for her.

"Well come on in," Ivy said, "I'll get you cleaned up."

As Ivy tended to her wounds, Harley explained the situation.

"It's for good this time," she finished.

Ivy couldn't help but feel skeptical. Harley didn't blame her. She did this song and dance before many times. Harley would cry, swear that it was over between her and the clown, and as soon as she healed up she would run back to him.

Ivy wanted to believe her this time. Ivy came to terms with her feelings for her friend long ago. Harley seemed serious, so Ivy trusted her.

It was two days later when they kissed for the first time. Harley had been living with Poison Ivy, and in hindsight, it was only a matter of time. Harley didn't consider herself to be a lesbian, nor had she any romantic feelings fir her friend. It just, as Harley eloquently put it, happened. She was confused and vulnerable, and when Ivy leaned in, Harley didn't think about it. She just followed suit. The kiss itself didn't last more than a few seconds, and was fairly innocent as far as kisses go. When Harley pulled back, Ivy spent the rest of the night apologizing. Harley swore that things between them were fine, and that it wasn't Ivy's fault. The former botanist wasn't convinced. Harley said she still loved her as a friend, and Ivy was sure that her heart could never be fully repaired.

Much to Ivy's delight however, Harley continued to live with her. She had no where else to go, and she would rather live in an awkward home than a box in the street. The next few days passed in a thick fog of sexual tension and frustration, and before either woman knew it, it was the one week anniversary of them living together.

For Harley, the day started of somewhat slowly. She had spent most of the previous night out and about, cleaning out any and all of the nearby jewelry stores and just about every place with a cash register. She figured sleeping in until the mid-afternoon was well deserved.

Harley awoke with a yawn and nice spine-popping stretch. She went about her normal morning routine, and strolled over to Ivy's kitchenette, intent on breakfast. She found Ivy preparing a small garden salad.

"Hey Red," Harley asked, "if you love plants so much, how come you eat 'em?"

Ivy rolled her eyes and was about to delve into a very well rehearsed speech on the many vital uses of plants when she was interrupted by a light knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Harley said.

Before she was even halfway to the door, it was suddenly kicked off its hinges. The intruder strutted in, every ounce of his stride was bleeding a unique combination of game show host charisma and homicidal lunacy.

Harley fell back and landed on her rear with a soft thud. Her heart pounded, her features frozen in a look of astonishment and fear. Ivy stopped what she was doing and turned, taking a defensive stance. The various potted plants around the room began to tremble, itching to tear apart anyone that would dare threaten their caretaker.

The intruder moved over to Harley. His face contorted into a wide smile, exposing his yellow teeth. He stared at Harley, his eyes glazed over with murderous intent. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Well, well, well. Truth be told, I should have checked to see if you had shacked up with your carpet munching best friend, or should I say, _bush_ munching?"

Joker took a few moments to laugh at his own joke.

"Anywho, I've turned Gotham upside down looking for you, my dear, and here you are. Well, I'm sure you had fun trimming the hedges with Daisy Dukes over here, but it's high time you and me have a private, and what I'm sure will be violent, talk."

Joker giggled and turned. He was almost out the door when he realized Harley wasn't following him.

"Harley, I'm in no mood for games. We're leaving."

Joker hadn't bothered to turn around when he addressed Harley. Harley stood up, looking from Ivy's pleading eyes to Joker's back. Ivy decided she wouldn't sit on the sidelines. She loved Harley, even if she didn't feel the same way. She wasn't about to hand her over to this abusive lunatic, not without a fight.

"She's not coming with you."

Joker considered Ivy's words, before responding with high-pitched cackle. he turned and stomped over to her. He licked his lips and glared at her.

"What are you going to do about it," he challenged. Harley took the heavy silence as an opportunity to speak up.

"Calm down Red," she softly commanded, " I wanna her him out."

Ivy was going to argue. Her plants were already growing, intent on smashing Joker to bits. Against her better judgement, she relented. Harley looked over to Joker.

"You hurt me," she said, "you treat me like dirt. You're a jerk."

She turned around and crossed her arms. Joker almost laughed. Even after all this, their relationship was still some sort of sick game. He loved it.

"Oh, Harley dear, I know I can be somewhat intense. It's this damn Batman. It's always been his fault."

Harley peered over her shoulder, and saw that Joker held a single rose. She was instantly reminded of her first night as a patient in Arkham Asylum.

"It's just," she said, " I feel like you don't love me."

Joker handed her the rose. Harley was so easy to toy with it almost wasn't fun.

Almost.

"Harley, you know I love you, my dear. I'm sorry. Can we please put this little spat behind us?"

Harley didn't waste a second jumping on him, bringing him into a massive hug, planting feathery kisses all over his face.

"I'm sorry too, Puddin'."

"Come on," he said, "lets go home. After you my dear."

Joker let Harley walk ahead of him and she skipped out of Ivy's hideout, humming.

Joker glanced over to a heart broken Poison Ivy, and winked.


End file.
